


And It Would All Somehow Be Better

by LSPrincess



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Turned Into a Ghost, Ghosts, M/M, Overuse Of Parentheses, Overuse of italics, Post-Season/Series 01, they're both happy glowy boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 16:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17369390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSPrincess/pseuds/LSPrincess
Summary: He wasn't so sure what Todd was complaining about. Of course, the fact that he was rather deadmightbe a difficult thing for him to wrap his head around, but Dirk was having a pretty okay time with it. He was dead. Sure. Okay. But yet he was stillalive,more alive than he’d ever felt. He’d pulled back the velvet curtain of death and was gazing at a wholenew worldof possibilities, new things to do with this merciful blessing that was an elongated (and possiblypermanent)existence.





	And It Would All Somehow Be Better

In hindsight, death wasn't that bad.

True, it had been something Dirk had always secretly feared (which was _entirely_ senseless, he frequently reminded himself in futile attempts to abate his terror — death was natural, and in _his_ line of work, far more likely than it had any right to be), but now, as he sat there, perched precariously (or what _would_ have been precariously if he was still at risk of falling to his death) on the edge of a roof, he found he wasn't scared at all. Rather…content, in all honesty.

The one thing Dirk could give death credit for, it certainly gave you _a lot_ of time to think. And thinking as he was, he remembered something rather suddenly, the sensation not unlike an unwelcome chill. He remembered past speculation, the assumption that after death, the world would fade to boring and depressing shades of grey, all life sucked from it and invisible to his own lifeless eyes.

Something _else_ he could give death credit for, it certainly had a _very_ straightforward way of correcting any speculation. In relation to Dirk’s current situation, the amount of _life_ and _color_ he could see was like a slap to the face.

Apparently, he wasn't the only thing that became ethereal and only _slightly_ effervescent in his postmortem luminescence. The world _itself_ was _glowing_ all around him, _blinding_ him (if he had eyes to blind). The afterlife (if Dirk could even rightfully _call_ it that, he was still very much present amongst _life)_ was similar in some ways to the descriptions Dirk had seen when he had been alive. Something that seemed to be a constant in the concept of Christian heaven was that it was much like Earth, only _better_ and _brighter_ and _happier_ (which, much to Dirk’s chagrin, was frankly _very_ different from the pearly-city-in-the-clouds stereotype). Now that he was _living_ the experience (wait, that sounded wrong. Now that he was… _dying_ the experience? No, that’s worse. Never mind, as you were), he could confirm this theory.

He wasn't exactly sure if he was _in_ heaven (in fact, he was almost entirely sure he  _wasn't_ — he doubted heaven looked like the smoky, polluted city of Seattle, which still had an underlying hint of city _filth_ even _if_ it was glowing brighter than 75-watt LED light bulb), but the afterlife he had found himself stuck in (was he stuck? He couldn't be sure) certainly held a _striking_ resemblance to Earth, only (as predicted) it was _better_ and _brighter_ and _happier._

“You know, even from the penthouse windows in the Perriman Grand, Seattle never looked so beautiful.”

Ah, _yes._ _Better_ and _brighter_ and _happier_ — especially with the world’s _greatest_ assistant sitting at his side, equally as ethereal and effervescent and eerily…hollow? Was that the correct word to use? It seemed as fitting of a word as any, Dirk reflected, and it really was the only word he could think of.

In death, he could most certainly abash the translucent-ghost stereotype. It was a slight disappointment, he supposed — he had _kind of_ been excited to see the world through his hands and legs and shoes — but there was something about the weird _glow_ he _actually_ had that rather effectively trumped being see-through.

Spirits, as it turned out, looked _quite_ like _people,_ only… _better_ and _brighter_ and _happier._ He and Todd, though (still _slightly_ disappointingly) not see-through, were still _very obviously_ dead, Dirk thought. Granted, they looked _mind-bogglingly similar_ to their living counterparts, but they were… _bright._ _Glowing,_ emitting their own light as if they _themselves_ were 75-watt LED light bulbs, and their hair was sort of…drifting. Floating, as if they were underwater. It was simply _mystical,_ if Dirk were being honest.

 _Better_ and _brighter_ and _happier_ indeed.

“I rather thought Seattle was _always_ quite lovely in its own charming way. Obviously, it’s not _London,_ but it’s still a nice city. Nice people…I think. I really did only meet the _alarmingly_ homicidal ones — but, no! I met _you!_ And _Farah!_ And _Amanda!_ No, see, Seattle _is_ lovely, Todd. I don’t think the _scenery_ is what makes a city worth staying in, I think it’s the _people_ — and if I’m basing the quality of Seattle off of the quality of its _people,_ then, yes, Todd, Seattle is possibly the _loveliest city_ I've _ever_ been in.”

Todd turned to Dirk, his head cocked to the side slightly, his already _effulgent_ eyes coruscating with affection, the non-existent muscles in his face slack, as if he were shocked by Dirk’s words. Correction, as if he were _flattered_ by Dirk’s words.

“Dirk…we got _killed_ here.”

Ah. Yes. Well…perhaps shocked _was_ the correct word.

Dirk pursed his lips and furrowed his brow, turning his attention back out to the city before him. He would never get over how _bright_ it was now, how every building and car glowed with _life,_ how they were so bright they were blurry at the edges, how the sky was darker and a more vibrant electric blue, how the sun’s already indistinct form had melted and grown ever more ill-defined, its light bleeding out across the sky, how the _clouds_ were glowing, not dissimilar to the little cloud lamps Dirk had seen once or twice in stores and had henceforth _needed._

In a way, he guessed he’d gotten them.

“I don’t think _killed_ is the right word, Todd,” Dirk mused, letting his eyes rove over the city below them.

“No?”

“No. We weren't necessarily _killed._ At least…It just doesn't seem _fitting._ We did _die,_ but we weren't killed _on the spot,_ we were simply…attacked. Fatally wounded, I’d say.”

Todd groaned and slumped forward, and Dirk felt the instinct to pull him back flare up in his _entire body,_ but before he could shoot a hand forward, he reminded himself of their situation.

Ah, yes. Of _course._ The risk of death was no longer a possibility. Having spent his entire life running from such a possibility (and, on occasion, inadvertently running _to_ it), Dirk was going to need quite a while to get used to the notion that he needn't worry about meeting an untimely end. That had already come to pass, and if Dirk were being honest, it wasn't as terrifying as he had expected it to be. Sure, the wound had been _painful_ (oh, it was bloody _awful),_ but the process wasn't…horrific. He couldn't necessarily call it _reverential,_ either, it was simply like…

Falling asleep. Letting the pain bleed out of him and letting the darkness that had been lingering in the edges of his vision overcome him.

“Right. Sure. _Fatally wounded,”_ Todd said, his voice adopting a mocking tone as he repeated Dirk’s words. “You know, I don’t really know _why_ I expected you to change in death.”

Dirk shrugged and shook his head. “I haven’t the faintest, either. Death really is just the continuation of existence, Todd, we've just…surpassed life on Earth. Life _amongst_ Earthlings. We’re otherworldly entities now, Todd, isn't that just _fantastic?”_

Todd met Dirk’s childishly enthusiastic gaze with a more sort of grumpy and “I can’t believe you would say that” look.

“Fantastic. Right. No longer able to eat, no longer able to talk to people, no longer able to drink or play music or…well…” Todd lowered his gaze, a shy smile gracing his face. _“Other_ enjoyable things.”

Dirk had never been quite sure why Todd always felt the need to censor himself when in his presence. It’s not like he didn't _know_ about sex or how _enjoyable_ it allegedly was. Perhaps that would be something he would grow to regret, he considered — abstaining for so long. He’d never thought much of it until now, until the (quite _literally)_ heart-stopping point in which he couldn't partake anymore.

A quick glance in Todd’s direction told him that, yes, he would most _definitely_ grow to regret never having sex, amongst other things. But letting his eyes linger on Todd’s dejected expression a little longer also told him that he couldn't _stand_ to let Todd’s pessimism ruin the first moments of their new life experience.

“Maybe we can possess something?” he suggested, and hastily went to elaborate when Todd stared at him as if he’d just suggested killing someone. “I mean possess _objects,_ Todd, you silly man. Perhaps a…guitar? For you? Do you think you’d be able to play the guitar if you _were_ a guitar? Play yourself, for lack of a better term?”

Todd looked over Dirk’s face for a moment, seeming to decide whether or not to _believe_ what Dirk was saying before he turned away with a snort.

“Please, Dirk. I've been playing myself my whole life.”

Well…that hadn't exactly gotten Dirk the response he’d _wanted,_ but he supposed the tired and vaguely contrite look in Todd’s eyes was better than the heartbreaking despondency it had replaced.

He wanted to keep talking, but the way Todd wouldn't meet his eye suggested that that had been a rather _final_ statement, so Dirk could do nothing more than turn back to the city and idly kick his legs.

He wasn't so sure what Todd was complaining about. Of course, the fact that he was rather dead _might_ be a difficult thing for him to wrap his head around, but Dirk was having a pretty okay time with it. He was dead. Sure. Okay. But yet he was still _alive,_ more alive than he’d ever felt. He’d pulled back the velvet curtain of death and was gazing at a whole _new world_ of possibilities, new things to do with this merciful blessing that was an elongated (and possibly _permanent)_ existence.

Death was _such_ a _negative word_ in Dirk’s opinion. A word that had instilled fear in him since he was a little boy. Now, he could see there was nothing to fear. It wasn't _death,_ it was _life._ It was _progression,_ it was _evolution_ — death was simply the act of leaving behind a frail and vulnerable body and releasing your immortal soul to roam the Earth and other possible realms and explore what you were now capable of. It was bloody _exciting,_ and Dirk was becoming all fidgety with the desire to begin his eternal explorations _right now._

Though he hadn't seen the sun lower, the blinding color of the sky had shifted, growing pinker, and the blurry, eye-melting streak of light across the sky that Dirk _assumed_ was the sun had darkened to warmer orange-y tone.

And the silence, though conceptually _blissful,_ was _killing him._

“Is it… _really_ so bad?” he asked, expecting his voice to be weak with disuse and internalizing his initial surprise when it came out just as strong as if they’d been talking the whole time. Without a throat to grow weary, he guessed he would never have to worry about voice cracks.

Todd blinked slowly, lowering his eyes just slightly, then turning his head and smiling softly at Dirk.

“No…I guess it isn't that bad. I mean…it’s certainly _much_ better than where I _expected_ to wind up after death. No chains or whips or little red devils dancing in spouts of fire, just…Seattle. The world. The sky.” His smile widened, brightened, grew more sincere, and Dirk couldn't find any remaining remorse or melancholy in his eyes. “And…yeah… _you.”_

If Dirk could blush, he was sure he would have — actually, he might _have_ blushed in his own ghostly way, because he suddenly felt _electric,_ and he was almost _positive_ he was glowing brighter. And the look on Todd’s face only helped confirm this theory.

“Holy shit,” Todd breathed, lifting a tentative hand and slowly reaching out to Dirk, and when his fingers brushed the ghost equivalent of leather that composed Dirk’s jacket, Dirk felt so much _warmer._ Not like the sun beating down on your skin kind of warm (which, Dirk realized with a brief flicker of grief, he would never be able to feel again), but like someone was injecting him with molten honey, letting it trickle sluggishly through his veins (that is, if he _had_ veins — _shit_ this was hard). Well, not exactly _molten,_ he digressed, because it didn't _burn_ it was just…so, _so_ warm, so warm that every extremity was _buzzing,_ so warm he thought the might pass out.

“Todd,” Dirk replied with a sigh, leaning into the touch and losing himself in that warmth. It was the warmth he always felt when Todd touched him, a warmth that, in the past, had been limited exclusively to the point of contact, but now was set loose and allowed to roam freely through the vast expanse of Dirk’s body.

Well…his _soul._

“What…What the hell did you _do?_ You’re like…It’s like…I can’t even…”

Dirk blinked, tilting his head to the side, encouraging Todd to continue.

“You’re…Shit, you’re _gorgeous.”_

Okay. Well…if Dirk had lungs he wouldn't be able to breathe. If he had a heart it would have stopped. If he had knees (and if he’d been standing) they would have turned to jelly.

What he _did_ have, however, was a soul. A bright, tangible soul, and he felt _hotter_ than he could ever recall feeling, and oh, what a _wonderful_ feeling it was.

This time, it was oh so _obvious_ when he grew brighter.

 _“Christ,”_ Todd hissed, pulling back slightly, letting those _shocking_ eyes rove over Dirk’s body. “I mean… _not_ Christ, I hope (what a weird turn of events _that_ would be), but… _you._ How are you doing that?”

“Erm…You’re doing it, too,” Dirk said, placing his hand over the back of Todd’s.

“I’m — _holy shit,_ why is that…What did you…Why is it so _warm?”_ Todd stuttered, gasping and sputtering for breath he wouldn't be able to draw and would never need to draw again.

Dirk squeezed his hand and smiled. “I think it happens when we…touch. It’s nice, isn't it? Like…honey.”

Todd shot Dirk a look that was all too familiar, his lips parted and his eyes narrowed — it was his “are you shitting me” face.

“Well, it actually feels like I've pissed myself, but honey works too.”

“Yes, well…that too.”

They both looked up from where their hands were touching, and Dirk saw something _amazing_ in Todd’s eyes.

Mirth. Disbelief. Thinly veiled excitement. _Love._

And he started laughing. He tilted his head up to the murky splotch of the burnt-orange sun in the sky and _laughed._ Laughed a laugh that made Dirk’s eyes widen and his jaw drop and his skin (body? Soul?) _burn_ and _prickle_ and his light to grow until he could hardly see their hands, and for a sweet, _fleeting_ moment…

He thought he could feel his heart beating.

**Author's Note:**

> After napping for seven hours, I suddenly got a burst of inspiration and wrote this at midnight. It wasn't _supposed_ to have chapters (that seems to be something that happens to me _quite_ a lot), but I figured I _could_ continue it, take you through them exploring life as spirits. Though it's not _technically_ Todd/Dirk _yet_ that is something that will _definitely_ happen later on. The tags will also change accordingly as the story progresses.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it!!


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